High School Days
by Artemis Day
Summary: Loki Odinson has been bullying Jane Foster since they were children, but the beginning of high school will bring about changes Loki never could have expected, in both Jane, and in himself. It seems impossible for his former target to let go of her hatred, but perhaps the most pressing question of all is why Loki even wants her to. Lokane AU.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: Okay, so this was originally part of my Lokane drabble collection, The Science of Lies. The original request came from i-am-fire-nuts on tumblr, but positive feedback prompted me to expand the plotline into this little four chapter story. I did not ever intend to write a High School AU for Lokane, or at all (I have nothing against them, they're just not something I was ever previously interested in writing), but you know, life is full of surprises, right?**

**Each chapter will be posted as I edit them. I can't give a definitive time frame, other than that it will probably be no longer than a week before the whole thing is posted.**

**I hope you all enjoy!**

* * *

She walks out of homeroom and opens her locker. That they're so close together is convenient for her, but not for him. Out the corner of his eye, Loki sees her exchange one stack of books for another. Where is that girl's bookbag, he wonders. She's so small, even without those books weighing her down, but like a true warrior, she carries them, back straight without a hint of struggle.

Loki has known Jane Foster for many years now. They first met in grade one, when he pushed her into the mud on picture day because she wouldn't stop talking about her new dress. Most of their encounters after that, from stealing her cookies at snack time, to sneaking a live frog into her backpack on the last day before summer break, had been much the same. Loki never stopped and asked himself why Jane Foster was his favorite target. He used to think it just another way to get Thor's goat, but Thor had stopped crushing on the studious girl around the time Sif moved in on the block. He never gave Jane Foster a second glance again, so Loki could only call it a force of habit. It helped that he would never get more than a week of detention for his jokes. As the smartest kid in school and the son of a wealthy businessman, it would be unwise on the school board's part to let him go.

Today is their first day of High School. In another four years, he would be off to the university of his choosing, after which he'd enter his father's company to assist in Thor's grooming as the future CEO, all the while putting things in place for his own eventual takeover. The world is an open book for him to explore at his leisure. He doesn't need this meager half-decade to know it's all at his fingertips. Jane Foster, for all the intelligence and drive she possesses, will never have a fraction of the opportunities he will, simply by virtue of being born to a middle class family, left an orphan, and raised by relatives who can barely feed themselves, much less her.

That fact used to make up the bulk of his taunts, until Jane Foster learned to dry her tears and take them in stride. He'll have to come up with something else.

Loki had been thinking about that off and on all summer, in between avoiding Thor's room while he and Sif ate each other's faces off, and having evening tea with his mother over the fireplace.

This is the first time Loki has seen Jane Foster since the frog incident. All thoughts of how he will push her down this year are gone, and for the life of him, he can't understand it.

It can't be because of how different she looks. She's prettier that she was for sure, on the cusp of womanhood and showing it in all the right places. Her hair is more tame than it's ever been. A few inches less and a little mousse has done wonders for her. She may have some makeup on as well, or that could be her natural shine, and he's just never noticed it before.

Other than that, she hasn't changed much. She has the same frumpy plaid and faded jeans. Her new backpack, which he can now see shoved into the corner of her locker, is a carbon copy of her old one. It's like she just shops at the same store every year and comes back with the same old things, like she has no concept of variety or change.

She closes her locker on the sack and on the pile of books she's left behind- many of which he'd wager aren't school related at all.

She turns around and stops dead in her tracks at the sight of him. Loki closes his fist around the strap of his bag.

She looks taller now. Taller than him even!

No, wait, she isn't. She hasn't grown an inch.

It's just that look she's given him, Loki is stunned to realize. It makes him feel five inches tall.

"What do you want?"

She slices at him like a snake, her venom burning through his sharp tongue and rendering him incapable of a comeback.

"I… nothing," he says in the end.

Jane Foster shakes her head and moves past him. She never looks back, no matter how hard Loki starts after her. Her hair swishes and waves over her shoulders, hypnotizing him.

He smells something in the air.

Is it lavender?

Did it come from her?

Loki can't say. He knows nothing except that he's going to be thinking about this all day, and probably every day until graduation; this result of a terrible mistake ten years in the making, that he can't undo even if he wanted to.


	2. Chapter 2

He's going to kill whoever is in charge of making up the schedules.

He has five classes with her.

_Five. Classes_.

And somehow, he's managed to get a desk in front of or behind her in every one of them.

Every.

Single.

One.

Somebody on the school board hates him.

Actually, everyone on the school board hates him, but that's beside the point.

It would be bad enough having one class in such close proximity with her. That, he could've handled it.

Even two would've been doable, but _five?_

Needless to say, he's exhausted when the final bell rings.

He paid no attention in second period World History, because he was too busy staring at the back of her head. He was even more distracted during third period English Literature, because this time, he was too busy trying _not_ to stare at the back of her head. Fourth period Algebra had seen him filling five full pages of his brand new, leather bound notebook, because it was the only way he could ignore her staring at the back of _his_ head.

Fifth and sixth periods were welcome reprieves, taking him to study hall and the lunch room respectively, where a hundred faceless students stood between himself and Jane, but then came seventh period French, and eighth period AP Biology. By the time he's in ninth period Intro to Business Law, with no Jane Foster to be found, he's exhausted. He can't even enjoy his freedom.

It's complete madness.

He just can't escape her.

For her part, Jane Foster did almost everything she could to pretend Loki didn't exist. Baring algebra, she'd given him not a hint of her attention, instead focusing on the lessons like the good little schoolgirl she is. She hands him back the syllabuses when they are passed around- she does not throw them at him or drop them to the floor. She would not give him the satisfaction of her spite. As far as she was concerned, he was nothing to her but just another classmate.

If Loki could just act the same way towards her, all his problems would be solved.

One of these days, he was going to have to sit himself down and really think about when his opinion of Jane Foster had changed so drastically; when he had gone from thinking her lower than dirt to feeling miserable at the thought that she might hate him, while simultaneously loathing her very existence in this school.

For now, he chose to do as he always did and foist all the blame on her.

She was clearly doing this on purpose. This was her revenge for all the years of torment he put her through. This was her finally growing a backbone and learning to stand up for herself, and then doing so in the most devious way possible.

In a way, Loki could respect that. After all, how many minds had he broken playing games with them just like this one? There was at least one sixth grade teacher, who had made the foolish mistake of giving him an unfair grade on his social studies midterm, who was to this day seeing a therapist three times a week and too traumatized to pick up teaching again.

It's different when it's happening to him, though. Loki used to imagine it would be, on the off chance someone came along who could match him in wits and cunning. He just never thought it could be like this, or that it would be _Jane Foster,_ of all people, who would become that person.

Oh, how he hated her for this; for doing this to him.

How he hated that he really couldn't hate her at all.

Damn her straight to hell and back!

* * *

It's lunchtime on the fifth day of school. One more day until the weekend, and two beautiful days away from the harsh and suffocating atmosphere surrounding Jane Foster. Compared to this, walking in on a half naked Thor with his head between a red faced Sif's legs would be like a walk in the park.

(Although that might just be because, following that incident, Thor and Sif had moved the majority of their 'activities' to her house, which brought the chances of him interrupting them again down to nil.)

He eats lunch in the courtyard today, as he likes to when the weather is right. It's a little chilly this afternoon; he buttons his jacket halfway up to combat the wind. It doesn't matter much, he's always been resilient against the cold, unlike the rest of his family. It made sense, given some rather... _distressing_ revelations about his place in the family that have only just been sprung on him a short time ago, but that's another story entirely.

Jane is sitting by a large oak tree next to the basketball court. It's the kind of tree they tell you has been there longer than the school itself, and is considered a historical landmark because someone vaguely important died there, all to justify not tearing the damn thing down, no matter how old or ugly or inconvenient it is. At least it's a good place to read. She's been sitting there with the same book, making steady progress from beginning to end, since Monday.

And Loki doesn't know that because he's been watching her or anything. No way in hell.

Someone taps him on the shoulder, and from the sting of a too sharp fingernail and the teeth gnashing sound of the voice in his ear, Loki doesn't need to turn and see who it is. He just has to look straight ahead and wish the ground would rise up and swallow his unwelcome visitor whole.

"Had a good summer, Odinson?"

He moves around the bench to sit next to Loki, pushing aside the books Loki had placed there to prevent exactly that from happening. His guest has changed quite a bit since last year. He is paler than he used to be, completely white if one isn't looking carefully. His face has sharpened, the skin stretching thinly over it, so Loki can almost see through it to his skull. His eyes are bloodshot, but what else is new? With the shit Mal is constantly getting into, Loki is pretty sure that they, along with several key internal organs, are damaged beyond hope of repair.

"What do you want, Mal?"

"A cigarette. I'm dying over here," he rasps and takes a long drink from a ratty old canteen that probably doesn't have water in it. "First, I wanted to see how my old buddy was doing in his first week of high school."

Loki releases air through grit teeth, then rips through a lukewarm drumstick that tastes gamey, but at least keeps him from having to talk to Mal for a little while longer.

"I see you've been giving Jane Foster the eye."

Loki pauses, and slowly returns the drumstick to his tray.

"No more than usual," he answers, as unaffected as he can convincingly feign.

Mal scoffs.

"Right, I believe that," he says. "You haven't just spent the last ten minutes eyefucking the hell out of her or anything."

Loki could cringe at the wording, but that would just give Mal undue satisfaction, and he can't say for sure what kind it would be. So he just keeps on eating and pretending the person next to him is just a mass of air.

"I don't blame you. She's turning into a hot one, Foster. I wouldn't mind a night in her bed."

"Mm-hm."

The lunch bell rings, a godsend at this point. Loki leaves without saying goodbye to Mal and re-enters the building a practiced twelve seconds after Jane does. In French, he learns a new list of verbs for study, and he may snatch the homework assignment away a little too hard when Jane hands it back. She almost turns to look when he does.

* * *

Lunchtime on Monday sees Mal asking Jane out on a date. Loki is so stunned, he thinks he's dreaming. It wouldn't be so far out. Last night, he dreamt about that it was Thor doing the asking, and a moment later, he was at their wedding, watching Jane walk down the aisle from the Best Man's spot. He woke up in a cold sweat and couldn't get back to sleep. It's a shame he can't wake up from this nightmare like he did that one.

Jane refuses Mal.

He might ask her again, only to be once more (and more forcefully) rebuffed. Loki can't tell. They're too far away and not in the right position for him to read their lips. What he knows is that Mal eventually gives up and storms away with his tail between his legs.

"Bitch," he mutters as he passes Loki by to go back inside. Loki doesn't bother anymore with him.

All he cares about is that Jane is alone, and that she's started a new book.

* * *

On Tuesday, it rains. The courtyard is closed off.

With every freshman and sophomore cramped into one cafeteria, it tells Loki a lot about how overpopulated this school is, and how insufficiently planned the lunch schedule is.

He is late to arrive thanks to some extra classwork that needed finishing. By the time he gets there, the vending machine is all out of his favorite soda, and not a single empty seat remains, except one.

Forget about the school board. God himself clearly hates him.

He lingers several feet away from Jane Foster's table, long enough that the lettuce in his salad starts to wilt. He shakes himself out of it by reminding himself that this is Jane Foster he's talking about. Jane Foster, who is built like a twig and cried for her mother in fifth grade, when the teacher put on Willy Wonka for class movie day. Jane Foster who, before this year, never had a harsh word to say about anyone, to the point where Loki hadn't thought her capable of hatred.

He walks over and sets his lunch down. She glances up once, then does a double take. Loki responds with a cool smile, the one that lets everyone know that he will have his way no matter how many of them he has to step on them to get it.

Jane scowls and goes back to her book, but she takes so long to turn the page, Loki doubts she's really reading at all. It feels like a win for him. He's eating his lunch in relative comfort, with the person on his opposite side scooting away to give him more room, and Jane Foster too squashed on her end to even think about doing the same. They both know she would've moved to the other end of the cafeteria a long time ago if she could. That she can't is a neverending source of amusement for Loki. He really can't help but gloat.

"That looks like a good book," he says, flipping the cover up so he can read it.

Jane moves it away from him before he can smiles sweetly. "It's about a really annoying guy who won't stop bothering poor, innocent young girls, and then he gets hit by a bus in the end."

It's a book about astronomy. Does she think he can't read?

"But what happens afterwards?" he asks, playing along. "What if the girl discovers after he's gone that she really misses him?"

"Because in the real world, when you spend years treating someone like dirt for no reason, they stop giving a shit what happens to you _real_ fast."

She slams the book shut and crams it back into her bag, returning to what's left of her sandwich in the same breath. Loki gives her a moment to finish.

"If the girl really cared so little, I don't think she'd get so flustered when questioned."

Jane doesn't deign to respond, and lunch ends with her leaving through the wrong exit, just to get away from him. Loki has had the final word and, as a bonus, he gets to watch Jane scramble to get through the door to French class before the late bell rings and just miss it by a second.

Goodbye, perfect attendance record!

The end of class sees Jane pulling the teacher aside for a private conversation. The next day, her desk has been moved to the opposite side of the room from him.

One down, four to go.

But it's something of a hollow victory.


	3. Chapter 3

He finds out later on that she tried to have her seat moved in all of their five classes, but it turns out only their bleeding heart French teacher is sensitive to the plights of her students. Otherwise, she's stuck.

It's at least a slight alleviation from her constant invasion of his space. Now he only has to worry about her for two and a half hours every day instead of three. She spends the rest of the time making herself scarce. She eats lunch in front of her locker on rainy days and finds another tree to read under when it's sunny. She even pays a senior in woodshop to attach wheels to her bookbag, so she can carry all her books at once without breaking her back and avoid having to use her locker.

It's worth every penny if it gets her away from him.

He can almost forget everything he's felt lately because of her, as weeks drag into months and Autumn brings forth a cold front, and not a single word of conversation passes between the two of them. He even considers starting up a few pranks, and really get things back to normal, but nothing he can think of comes close to satisfactory. They're either too far beneath him to consider or things he's already done before. The latter is especially out of the question. He could never be so obvious as to repeat himself, even just one time.

Repetition breeds predictability. That is something he must never forget.

* * *

Mr. Stone is their biology teacher, and he most likely has some kind of military background. Loki doesn't know for sure, he was lacking caffeine the night he read over all his teacher's background checks. Hacking the system had taken more time and effort than he'd expected.

It comes out in Mr. Stone's teaching method, in the way he marches up and down the aisles in strict formation, and gets right up in your face when he yells at you for misbehaving. Loki is convinced after a month in the man's class that he's either just recently been discharged and is having trouble adjusting to civilian life, or he's deluded himself into thinking he never left at all.

"Alright everyone, ATTENTION!"

Mr. Stone slams a ruler on the chalkboard, and marches up and down the room, following a path that will soon be worn into the floor itself.

"Your first quarter study projects are due exactly two Mondays from today. You will begin by choosing a topic for study, then write a five to ten page research paper. I expect you to have them completed and on my desk before the deadline. This assignment counts for thirty percent of your final grade, and overdue hand ins will NOT be accepted.

"You will all work in pairs of my choosing."

A wave of groaning rolls over the class.

"SILENCE!" Mr. Stone hits the chalkboard again. "Now, when I call your name, you will go and sit next to your partner. You will spend the rest of today and tomorrow discussing your research topic, and you will have an answer for me by Friday. If by then, you have not made a decision, I will make it for you, and you and your partner will receive points off your final grades."

Mr. Stone returns to his desk and takes up the roll call sheet.

"Malekith and Kurse."

Mal's seat is two down from Loki's. He rolls his eyes in full view of Loki, obviously expecting some kind of affirmation of his disgust, but coming up empty handed. Loki has found the cracks on the walls to be much more appealing a sight than that of Mal going to stand next to the burly, hideous Kurse, who reminds Loki more of a thirty year old gangbanger than a fifteen year old high school student.

"Stark and Potts, Banner and Ross, Rogers and Carter, Coulson and Ward, Barton and Romanov, Rhodes and Barnes, Odinson and Foster, Hill and Lewis, Hogan and Hansen, Fitz and Simmons."

There is a smattering of noise as everyone breaks off into their assigned pairs. They've learned their lesson about complaining, and all preconceptions aside, most of them are happy with the lots they've been drawn. Already, Stark is sliding up to his beleaguered girlfriend, the things on his mind clearly not at all school related; Rogers is trying not to hyperventilate as he and his longtime crush start discussing their project; Barton and Romanov hole themselves up in the corner, like they do at lunch and in every other class Loki has with them.

He is the only one who hasn't moved, and that he hasn't been yelled at for it yet can only be because his partner is right behind him, and just as gobsmacked as he is.

Mr. Stone looks up once in the following twenty five minutes to check that everyone is working. His eyes land square on Loki and Jane, and they harden.

"Get to work," he says, without yelling for once.

Jane starts to get up, drawing in a breath for what has to be a very long winded speech of protest.

"_Sit down,_ Foster," Mr. Stone barks before she can get even one word out. "Unless it's the topic you and partner have agreed on, I don't want to hear a peep out of you."

Jane returns to her seat like she's just been slapped. Loki has trouble finding humor in it like he wants to. It's mitigated by a clenching of his fists and a momentary urge to sink them into the fat folds of Mr. Stone's face. When it passes, he turns his chair around. Jane has her head down, and she's drawing a detailed, if crude, picture of a rocketship. Anyone who spares them a glance wouldn't find the sight unusual. They'd think Jane was just being her same old ultra-studious self, getting right down to business and all that.

"We don't really have a choice here, you know," Loki says.

Jane is able to ignore him for a couple of minutes more before his stare gets the better of her.

"I'm trying not to think about it," she says.

Loki shakes his head and straightens in his seat.

That makes two of them.

* * *

The next day, they talk long enough to decide on cell biology for their project. That Jane has taken her most detailed notes on cell biology, the use of which will surely cut down the time they must spend working together by a considerable margin, goes unmentioned.

As long as things go according to plan, it'll be five study halls before they are finished, and they could have the report on Mr. Stone's desk Thursday morning, before the day even starts. It's an easy A for the both of them.

Except first, they must get through the next five days.

They don't talk at all on the first day.

On the second, Loki asks Jane to hand him a book and she does.

Progress is progress.

On the third day, Loki forgets his pencil sharpener. The one pen he has on him is out of ink. He tosses it in the trash along with the broken pen and looks expectantly at Jane. That she is none too pleased is a given, but she hands over a blue pen anyway.

"Thank you kindly for your generosity, Jane," he says, holding the pen to his chest like it's a treasured keepsake.

Jane raises an eyebrow. "Kind? Generous? I didn't know you knew those words."

What a poor attempt at an insult, but he'll give her points for trying.

"As a matter of fact, I have an intimate knowledge of them. For example, there was that incident in second grade, when Kurse was _kind_ enough to help me clean a stain on my collar by sticking my head in the toilet, and in return, I shared with him a _generous_ portion of my mother's fine garden soil for his lunch the next day."

Her mouth starts to twitch, and she looks away fast, but she cannot take back what she has just done, and he cannot unsee it.

He just made a joke, and his joke had made her smile.

And he actually kind of likes that.

* * *

It takes them one extra day than expected to finish the report than expected. On Wednesday afternoon, someone let off a stink bomb in the library, and it took the rest of the day for custodians to get the smell out. When it happened, Jane had looked to Loki first, and he had been affronted.

Surely she knew he had higher standards than a stink bomb!

Plus, he already pulled that prank years ago at his father's company picnic.

Repetition breeds predictability. That cannot be stressed enough.

Since the third day, things have proceeded much more smoothly between them. Loki makes an effort to choose different targets for his snide remarks, such as that one kid who always sits in the farthest corner of the library with the periodicals, where he 'enjoys' himself with a copy of Women's Health.

She never laughs, but she 'almost-smiles' at least twice more.

Loki stopped trying to understand why he cares some time on the fourth day.

He stands by as Jane prints out their completed assignment on the fifth day. Every now and then, he looks away from the page he is reading to check her progress. This school is in dire need of some better printers. The one they have now is so old and slow that it puts dial-up to shame.

"You misspelled nucleus."

Loki holds up the page and points to the sentence bearing the offending mistake. Jane doesn't look.

"That's just the rough draft," she says.

"But aren't you the one who proofread the final draft?" Loki asks. "It doesn't speak highly of your reliability if you make such an obvious mistake. Oh, look! Here's another."

Jane snatches the paper away, before he can point out the comma she missed.

"Look, it was three am when I wrote my part of the rough draft and I hadn't slept. Sue me."

The printing job is finally done, and Jane carefully stores the papers in her bag for tomorrow. They had previously decided on who would present their work to the teacher with a rousing game of blackjack (his idea), best two out of three. Jane had balked at the idea at first, but Loki had worn her down. It was a fun, addicting game, and what were they betting for anyway? Not _money_. Not even Loki was cruel enough to take money from a poor person. They were only deciding who would hold their work over the weekend and nothing more. Jane had reluctantly given in at that point, and may have even had a little fun beating him. Of course, whether or not Loki had let her win out of pity was perfectly justifiable to speculate on.

"How do I know you were in top form for the final draft?" he asks.

"Because you were with me when I was working on it. You were literally sitting right next to me the whole time."

"You sound quite sure of yourself," he says, grinning. "But in case you're not, I'd be happy to take the remainder of the work off your shoulders. Do a read through of my own to be sure. Shall we play for it? Best three out of five."

"Goodnight, Loki. See you tomorrow."

She walks out of the library with all their hard work on her shoulder. Loki watches her go.

He likes the way she says his name.

* * *

Jane comes to school on Monday in a blur.

Loki is at his locker when she bursts onto the scene, running so fast, her bookbag is in the air and half off it's wheels. It flaps helplessly and heavily, nearly barreling into several people who get out of the way just in time to avoid a trip to the Nurse's office.

Throwing open her locker, Jane rummages through its meager contents. Loki watches her, like a man watching a wreck in progress, but it's when she's shaking out a book she hasn't touched in over a month that he goes over.

"Missing some medication this morning?" he asks, because he can't give her up as a target just yet.

Jane's head snaps around, her eyes wild. She drops the book to the floor and grabs him by his shirt collar.

"Did you take it?" she asks, her voice sounding like sandpaper. "Huh? _Did you?"_

"Take what?" he asks in earnest, and far too calmly for her by the look of it.

"Look, I won't be mad if you did, okay? I won't yell at you, I won't even hold it against you. Just _please_ tell me you have it!"

She shakes him, as hard as her miniscule strength will allow. Loki easily pulls her hands off of him when he tires of it.

"How can I do that when I don't even know what it is I'm supposed to have?"

Jane's adrenaline induced rage seems to break here, and she falls against her locker and slides pitifully to the floor. A moan follows her down. Loki steps back a little to give her some leg room, and stares off a few stragglers who've stuck around to watch the spectacle.

"Would you mind telling me what this is all about?" he asks.

Jane shakes her head.

"I messed up," she says. "I messed up so bad."

He thinks those are tears in her eyes.

"I had the paper," she says, and from the haunted quality of her voice, she may not even be talking to him. "I wanted to look over it one more time… because _you_ made me paranoid, Mr. Spellcheck."

That's a little bit better, but it still needs some work.

"I only left it for a second. I just needed a refill on my drink. And when I come back, my stupid cousin has decided that our paper is a _perfect_ coaster for her coffee."

Jane bangs the back of her head on the back of her locker.

"So what now? I can't hand in a paper with a coffee ring on it. Thank goodness I have the whole thing copied onto my usb drive. I just have to pull it off that and reprint it. That's easy, right? My printer at home is ten times faster than the one here anyway."

"But when you went to go and do that, you couldn't find the usb," Loki supplies. Really, it's easy to fill in the rest of the blanks once she gets going, even amid the steady slurring of her words that makes it clear she's had this on her mind all night.

With her head bowed in shame, Jane pulls herself up. Her legs are shaking like leaves.

"Loki, I'm sorry," she says, sounding on the verge of tears. "It's all my fault. I should've just let you carry the paper, or made you a backup copy, or _something._"

She starts rubbing at her nose, and accepts the tissue he offers without comment.

"I can't believe this. We're going to fail. I've never failed anything in my whole life."

She's having trouble walking straight- has she ever slept?- and she forgets her bag by her locker, so it's up to Loki to wheel it behind them as he walks her to her first class, and wonder how the hell he got himself into this.

* * *

Jane's a zombie by the time eighth period rolls around. It would be funny if it wasn't so very, very sad.

She sits in her seat similar to a rag doll that's been propped up by a child. Mr. Stone is not going to be happy when he sees that. The man is all about posture, and he treats slouching like it's a crime against humanity.

He arrives in typical fashion: throwing the door open and staring menacingly inside for a few seconds, smelling for fear that he rarely finds after the first two days or so of school. By then, everyone is too used to it.

"Good afternoon," he says, standing in the center of the room with his arms behind his back. "As you all know, today is the deadline for your study projects. I expect that you've all followed the guidelines and have your final reports ready?"

A couple of people mumble unintelligibly.

"Well then, let's start from the beginning… Stark and Potts!"

One by one, a member of each pair walks up to turn in their reports. Potts is first, followed by Banner, then Barton, and so on and so forth until Mr. Stone is halfway down the list.

"Odinson and Foster."

Loki can feel Jane's whole being freeze. The hairs are standing up on her neck and arms as their collective silence draws a purple vein out of Mr. Stone's neck.

"Well?"

Biting down hard on her lip, Jane stands up. Her face is dry, her eyes puffy and red. She meets Mr. Stone's gaze, and Loki feels a hint of respect for her, that she'd be so brave in the face of impending failure. A 'Warrior's Spirit,' as his father and brother would call it. Loki isn't sure how much he agrees, but either way, he likes this side of Jane.

"Mr. Stone," she says, as calmly as she can manage. "The truth is-"

"The truth is that I misplaced the project," Loki interjects.

The eyes that turn onto him would've burned a lesser man. For Loki, it's just another day of troublemaking, except this time, he's doing it for a good reason, other than just 'I felt like it.' Jane may not agree when this is over, but such is the sacrifice of maintaining his reputation. At least she'll have nothing to be angry about. Quite the opposite, in fact.

"You lost the project?" Mr. Stone asks.

Even if he can't see Jane, Loki can imagine what her face looks like. He holds onto that image, allowing him that easygoing disposition in the face of danger that he prides himself on.

"It was a terrible accident, really," he says. "I had the file saved on a usb drive, but it was taken by a friend of mine who'd mistaken it for their own. By the time I realized what had happened, it was too late. It's my fault, really. I shouldn't have left it sitting out like that, where anyone could have taken it."

Mr. Stone, his face and neck a mess of red and purple, his eyes bulging out of their sockets, a second away from exploding and possibly suffering a stroke, leans in close.

"So why don't you get it back?" he asks, just above a whisper.

Loki smiles.

"Impossible, sir. You see, that friend I mentioned is an employee of my father's, and the usb was taken as part of a collection my father is using for a presentation in Stockholm. He's announcing some new technology that could make our company billions if it's successful. However, he is on a tight schedule, and I'm sure you understand why I couldn't just have the plane double back around and make him miss the meeting just so I could have one little usb for one little project. I'm sure you understand how detrimental that would be to my family's business."

And that was it. Loki had him.

Not even Drill Sergeant Stone was bullheaded enough to step in the way of the Odinson's business affairs, not when their company was the pillar of the town's economy and their name was plastered on everything from banks to barber shops to taxi cab advertisments.

As expected, the red and purple had lightened, coming out pure, pale white. Stammering slightly, Mr. Stone loosened his collar and moved away from Loki to the front of the classroom.

"W-well, if it's something so important, then I suppose..."

"You needn't worry, though," Loki goes on. "For my partner has a copy of our report on her own usb."

He turns to Jane, who is paler than Mr. Stone and shaking her head furiously at him.

"I believe you had it in the front pocket of you bag, am I right, Jane?"

If looks could kill, as they say. He doesn't think she's ever been this furious with him, not even after the frog incident. She dips sweaty fingers into the unzipped front pocket of her bag, because what other choice does she have now that Loki has put her on the spot. After a moment, shock dawns over her features, and from her bag, she pulls forth a tiny black usb, her finger covering the tiny 'L' decal.

She opens her mouth, but she's been rendered mute. Mr. Stone takes it from her anyway and places it on the stack of reports on his desk.

"Fine," he says, averting his eyes from either Jane or Loki. "Good work, Foster."

"I- I- I-" Jane repeats the meaningless article for the longest time, as Mr. Stone ignores her in favor of collecting the rest of the reports. Loki keeps to his notebook so she won't see his grin. He can't help it. _This_ is definitely funny.

* * *

In the end, only Mal and Kurse don't have their assignments ready, and Mr. Stone takes great pleasure in releasing his rage over their heads. Loki can't complain about that. Those two idiots are more than worthy targets.

He steps out with Jane after the bell rings. Their final periods of the day are on different ends of the school, so he waits by the forked hallway for her to gather herself, which she does in record time.

"What the hell was that?" she demands, pointing furiously at the classroom they just left behind.

Loki shrugs his shoulders. "You didn't really expect me not to keep a copy of my own in case something went wrong, did you?"

"Well that what was all that crap about your father's company?" she shouts. "Why did you need to- what purpose did that even serve? And how did you get _your_ usb into _my_ bag without me seeing it?"

He shrugs again. "My actions were to remind Stone that he cannot treat me like an inferior just because he is my teacher. He's been far too reckless these past few months. I needed to put him in his place."

Loki makes like he is going to leave without saying goodbye (which he isn't) or answering her final questions (which he is). He trusts Jane to have some other complaint about his methods of handling things, that will lead her to run after him and make herself late again.

He makes it to the doors, and she doesn't come after him.

He walks through them, and she doesn't come after him.

He resists turning to look for as long as he can, and then the five minute bell rings, and he has to.

He sees Jane just a short ways away. So she _has_ followed him. He just didn't hear it.

What happens next can only be the result of temporary insanity. That, or Loki is high on fumes from the nearby Chemistry lab, and is hallucinating the whole thing. Jane feels real enough when she drops her bag and launches herself into his arms. Her breath tickles the nape of his neck and her hair scratches against his cheek. She's lighter than he after thought she would be. He could carry her one handed over his shoulder without breaking a sweat if he wanted to.

"Thank you," she says. "Thank you so much."

She lets go, as abruptly as she grabbed hold, and walks away. Her eyes are growing moist again. Was this one grade really that important to her?

"I owe you one, okay?" she calls out by the door.

She leaves without waiting for an answer, not that Loki could've given her one. It's not fair of her, really, to put herself in his debt like this, and not even allow him to reap the benefits. How can he think of ways to exploit her promise when all he can think about is the feel of her body against his? And the warmth of her skin that overshadows his own? And that lavender smell…

It's _always_ lavender, isn't it?

Damn her.

_Damn her._

**_Damn her!_**

* * *

Loki is ten minutes late to class.


	4. Chapter 4

It goes without saying they get an A on the report. In fact, they score the highest out of everyone, including self-proclaimed school genius, Tony Stark. Not that Stark has ever been competitive about grades. In fact, he barely cares about them at all. He's like the anti-Jane in that regard.

For her part, Jane is brighter than a summer's day for the rest of the week. She still won't use her locker, but she greets Loki pleasantly in the halls, and she doesn't walk away when another rainfall forces them together for lunch. Sometimes, they even walk to and from class together, though only when one of them happens upon the other while making their own way. Loki does not actively sneak her out, and he knows she doesn't either.

Thanksgiving Break comes and goes, and suddenly, there is snow on the ground, and the music department is putting up flyers for the Winter Concert on December 21st. Teachers place Santa Clauses and snowmen in their windows, and a small Christmas tree is erected in front of the main entrance. It looks like the school has splurged on a new tree this year, because this is not the decrepit, browning bit of death Thor used to tell horror stories about. It's actually fairly decent, for a fake tree.

Now, if only they could do something about that printer.

"Doing anything special this year?"

She asks him this in the middle of a thunderstorm, when they're squished together at a table with the very uptight and ornery basketball team. Someone keeps elbowing Loki in the shoulder while they simulate a slam dunk for their friends' entertainment, and they're liable to lose the whole arm if they do it again.

"Special?" he asks.

"Yeah, for Christmas."

He thinks about that for a second. Odds are good he's going to spend the holiday in some European country of his mother's choosing. Always the adventurous type, she will be struck by wanderlust at certain times of the year, and desire a week or two away to some exotic location. Last year, it was Moscow. The year after that, Tokyo. This year, she may be going with Luxemburg. He saw some web pages open on her laptop while he was in the library looking for a book.

"Nothing much," he replies. "How about you?"

"Same," she answers. She goes to take a bite of her sandwich, but stops abruptly. "Well, my grandma is coming to stay with us for the weekend. It'll be the first time I've seen her in about five years."

"She lives far away?"

"Right across town, actually. In some kind of old folks community or something." Jane puts down the sandwich and goes for her salad instead. "Her and my Uncle don't exactly get along."

"Is that right?" Loki asks, surprised to find that he actually somewhat cares to know the reason.

"I never found out why, something about her not liking my Aunt. No one's ever given me details, they just don't like to talk about her."

"And now she's coming for the holidays."

"Well, her doctor just diagnosed her with stomach cancer, and she doesn't want to bother with chemo, so there's a good chance this'll be her last Christmas. I guess she wants to at least try and make amends while she still can."

Loki hums and nods. He watches Jane for any change in expression, but so far, she's been digging into her questionably nutritional meal with no somberness to speak of. It seems odd for someone like her, who has always stuck him as a more compassionate type.

"Are you not bothered by the thought of your grandmother dying?"

She gives him a flat look, which lets him know that came out harsher than he'd intended.

"You're the last person in the world to try and guilt me," she says. "And it's kind of hard to feel sad when I barely know the woman, and she's never taken much of an interest in me anyway. I mean, I'm not _happy_ about it either…"

She trails off, unable to find the right words to explain it. She shakes her head and goes back to her food, and Loki can accept that. They eat in silence for a minute or so, then Loki sets down his fork.

"Should your family be too difficult to live with this year, you're welcome to join mine on a trip to Europe. You do have a passport, yes?"

Jane looks like she's going to laugh, but doesn't know if she should or not. A small guffaw escapes her, and she swallows back the rest.

"No, I don't have a passport, for your information," she says, but in a goodnatured way despite the bitterness she might have conveyed many weeks ago. "But thanks for the offer."

"I could forge you a passport if you like."

And now she is truly speechless. This is becoming more fun than pranking her.

"…okay, I rescind my thanks."

"You can't do that," he says indignantly.

Jane smirks. "Too bad, I already did."

"I won't allow you to do that."

"It's not up to you."

"Isn't it?"

"No."

"I think it is."

"You think wrong."

"Well-"

"KISS! KISS! KISS!"

"COME ON, KISS HER!"

"DO IT!"

Loki and Jane jump as the athletes they had completely forgotten about form a posse to cheer them on and pump their fists in the air. They loudly encourage a total decrease in the distance between them, which Loki has only just noticed has been steadily shrinking.

They are literally close enough that Loki can smell that perfume.

He's going to have to throw out every single lavender scent his mother owns.

Jane moves away first, and that's a problem for Loki. He should've done it ages ago, when those idiots first started chanting. Forget about just the one with the elbow, all of these fools are going to find their basketball careers cut tragically short and their families bankrupted by next week.

He makes detailed plans as Jane picks up her things- leaving the rest of her lunch behind- and half runs out the door, turning a hundred heads as she does

The basketball players boo and pat Loki on the shoulder ("She'll come around, big guy. Don't worry."). Loki brushes them off to go after her. It means little to him how others will take it. They will gossip to their hearts content about the tiniest thing regardless, and chances are, something new and ten times as 'scandalous' will happen by the end of eighth period.

He hopes Jane realizes this.

It occurs to him that she might not.

He catches her right away, his legs being a good six inches longer than hers. She's not running anymore anyway. The shock has worn off, and she's probably wondering why she reacted like that in the first place.

"Well, that was embarrassing," she says, almost jokingly.

"It depends on how you choose to look at it," Loki says.

"You can think of a way other than total mortification?"

She goes to her locker and opens it, for no other reason than to give herself something to do. She has even less in there this time than the last. A few old books and magazines, and what appears to be their crumpled up algebra syllabus. She opens her book bag and takes a thin, hardcover book out, exchanging it for one of the ones in her locker.

"You don't have to stay here, you know," she says.

Loki has made himself comfortable leaning on the door of an unused class, and isn't going anywhere.

"Of course I don't," he says belligerently.

She glares at him, and he smiles. Mission accomplished.

"I'm surprised you can be so calm," she says, turning away. "I thought you of all people would've hated that."

"Who says I didn't?" he asks.

He regrets it as soon as he sees Jane's eyes fall, and her shoulders slump. Such simple body language that conveys so much, so many things he never expected. For once, he isn't sure how to proceed. The endless paths he makes for himself- so that he is always one step ahead no matter the odds- are fading away one by one, until all that is left is the broken, crumbling edge of a cliff at his feet. He feels himself slipping.

And that's bad. That's bad for so many reasons, he can't bother to list them all. The most important one is that the mistake he's been fearing in the back of his mind since the first day of school may be even graver than he thought.

"Loki," she says, eyeing him meaningfully. "Can I ask you something?"

_'You just did,'_ he wants to say.

"You may."

Jane looks down at the floor, deep in thought.

"Why did you start bullying me in kindergarten?"

He chafes at the word 'bullying,' and realizes that he's been doing everything in his power to avoid using it. Pranking sounds better to him. It sounds childlike, innocent. He was just a boy having a little harmless fun that she took too seriously. He never hurt her, he never pushed her around (not after the first time anyway). He never even took her lunch money. He just made sure every day had a new surprise in store for her, whether it be a crayon box full of only greens or a raincoat draped over a tree branch. In the latter case, he'd even climbed up the tree and gotten it for her once the teacher forced him to.

But he'd never seen it as bullying.

Or more accurately, he'd never _let_ himself see it as bullying.

"I suppose… it had something to do with Thor…"

Jane gawks.

"Thor? Your _brother?_"

"He harbored some affections for you, albeit briefly-"

"You pushed me in the mud and put a frog in my bookbag because you brother has a crush on me?"

"_Had_ a crush on you," Loki corrects her, as if that assuages his guilt somehow. "We are talking about something that ended many years ago, before it ever had a chance to begin."

"And did you know he lost interest in me?"

Loki opens his mouth and closes it, and takes a long, deep breath. That should pretty much say it all.

"Oh my god," Jane says. She laughs and walks around him, like a madwoman on the prowl. "That's- you know, I knew you were unbelievable and crazy, but that's just… I can't even describe it."

"I can't and I won't defend the actions of my younger self," Loki says. "But you must understand, my brother-"

"I don't even know your brother! Did you ever think of that? How was I supposed to know he had a thing for me? I was six years old!"

"So was I."

"Yeah, and then you were seven, then eight, then nine, ten, eleven- you can't justify this, Loki!"

"I'm not trying to!"

It's a good thing there is no one around to cat call them this time. Loki wagers they are closer together now than they were in the cafeteria. Forget about that lavender smell invading all his senses, he can feel her breath on his face, heavy and warm.

He backs off before he does anything he'll regret (or maybe not). Jane needs time to register his fading presence, and she takes an ill advised step forward while still in her stupor. She almost falls forward, but at the last second, she catches herself. Her face has turned so many shades of red in the past few seconds, some of which are not yet known to man. Her lips are slightly puckered, and it's a good thing Loki moved when he did, otherwise that sight alone might have broken what little self control he has left.

Damn her.

"I… don't know what I can say to appease you."

He can practically feel the disappointment radiating off of her. She's not even angry anymore, and that might be the worst part of it all. It's easier for him when she's yelling and screaming at him, easier to pretend that she's just another shrieking harpy making a big show of nothing at all, and that he is completely innocent. When she's like this, there is nowhere to hide.

"I'm not going to tell you," she says, her voice a tad fainter than before, and now Loki can here her steps. "If you can't figure it out for yourself, then you don't deserve my forgiveness in the first place."

She's gone a moment later, just as Loki knew she would be. She leaves him just as the bell rings and the hallways fill with students. They brush by Loki, oblivious to him and his internal conflict.

He isn't late to class this time, he just plain doesn't go. He spends the rest of the day standing under the bleachers, ignoring Stark and Potts eating each other's faces ten feet away and just… thinking.

* * *

A warm fire crackles in the corner, cheery Christmas music filtering through the mounted speakers. It's either Frank Sinatra or Bing Crosby. He always gets those two mixed up.

If Loki had the energy, he'd take a bus down to the local radio station, break in, and switch all of their Christmas music up with Death Metal, the way he did when he was twelve. He doesn't even care that he's done it before, let him be predictable for once. For him to be predictable is, in and of itself, unpredictable, so he still wins.

Honestly, he hasn't been able to so much as think straight for longer than few hours at a time ever since his last conversation with Jane. Three weeks have gone by since then; she hasn't been back to her locker. What books remain are abandoned, left to rot, for as long as there's a chance that she could run into him while getting them. Loki hung around his locker for a little while the first day after the fight. She never showed up, and he never waited again.

For a while, he tried to convince himself that he was really in the right, and she was the one being childish and petty by ignoring him like this. It does little in the long run to soothe him. The voice of his conscience, once a docile beast, is now a growing inferno that sounds like an unholy mixture of Jane and his mother. It keeps him from delving too far into that fantasy. He is not the victim, it says, and he never will be, no matter how he tries to spin it. His lies will not help him here.

There is only one thing he can do to maybe fix this, but who knows if it isn't too late?

The phone rings as Loki is trying to stew in peace, and it keeps going even after Loki lets it go to voicemail. After the third time, Loki is ready to toss the wretched thing out the window. He can just steal Thor's again or buy a new one with a more secure phone number after the holidays. It can only be his emotional compromise over Jane that leads him to answer, and it's undoubtedly morbid curiosity that keeps him on after Mal's raspy laughter comes through the receiver.

"There you are, dude. I thought you were ignoring me!"

"And I thought I blocked your number," Loki says.

That awful laugh again. Loki wonders if there is any possible way he can rip Mal's voice box out and make it look like an accident.

"Come on, Loki, it's Christmas! You're supposed to be happy and nice to people. Peace and goodwill and shit. Check this out, Kurse and I are having a smoke in front of the Exxon gas station on 9th street, and you'll never guess who just walked into the convenience store."

"Your parole officer?"

"Nah, he's in Florida until New Year's. It's Foster!"

Loki, only half paying attention up until now, sits up in bed so fast, it almost breaks his spine.

"Mal, if this is a joke-"

"No joke! Believe me, I'm shocked too. I would've thought little goody goody Foster would be at home making gingerbread snow men or whatever it is people do on this dumbass holiday, but she's right there! She's buying a root beer and a bag of pretzels from the look of it. Hey, I was thinking I'd try asking her out again. I bet last time, she was just too shy since there were so many people around. Now that it's just me and Kurse, she'll be way more into it, don't you think? Loki? Hey, Loki? Man, where the fuck did you go?"

Mal continues to yell at dead air, unaware that Loki dropped the phone ages ago, and is in the process of buckling his seat belt and starting Thor's car.

* * *

Loki careens down the block. He tries to drive as slow as he can while still hurrying at the same time. The last thing he needs right now is to get pulled over, and have to explain his lack of a driver's license to some half drunk policeman who probably wants to be doing anything other than pulling over joyriding punks on Christmas Eve.

He was lucky enough to find Thor's keys in the living room ashtray (the idiot is constantly misplacing them). If he'd had to enter Thor's room, and risk one more sight of Thor's naked white ass with Sif's (admittedly very nice) legs draped over him, he might have just hot-wired Father's Porsche and been done with it. That takes too much time, though. Time Loki doesn't have.

It takes him six minutes to get there without breaking the speed limit. Now he wishes he had. The Exxon station is just up ahead, and not another car is in sight. Loki guns it. The tires screech as he makes a sharp turn into the station. He turns the headlights on Mal and Kurse, standing over a less than scared looking Jane holding a shopping bag. All three of them, but especially Mal, have the traditional 'deer in headlights' face. Loki studies the scene briefly before killing the engine and stepping out of the car.

"Evening, Gentlemen. Jane."

He nods at her. She doesn't nod back.

"Hey, Loki!" Mal says, hiding well the fear Loki smells on him. "You made it just in time. Jane here was just about to agree to be my date for the Homecoming Dance."

"No, I wasn't," Jane says bluntly. "I was actually about to tell you _once again_ that I'm not interested, and also to leave me alone, and also your breath stinks. Brush your teeth sometime, would you?"

Jane pushes past the goblin-like Mal and his massive henchmen, past Loki, and to his car, where she opens the passenger side door and gets in. She never asks for permission, just assumes she has it.

Loki glances at Mal and Kurse, both too dumbfounded to try anything, not that they would with him around. They know better than that. With a silent wave and a proud smirk, Loki bids them goodnight and Merry Christmas.

"What were you doing there?" Jane asks, as they drive down a country road back into town.

"I should ask you the same question," Loki counters.

Jane looks away, because there is really no way around that for her. A young woman alone at an isolated gas station at night with no noticeable means of self defense? There's a recipe for disaster if Loki ever saw one.

"Well?" Loki asks.

Jane winces, and folds her arms over her chest.

"My grandma came," she says, "and the first thing out of her mouth was to ask my uncle if he was still married to 'that two-bit Jew whore.'"

Loki whistles.

"Yeah," Jane says, laughing humorlessly. "Once the fight started, I knew I had to get out of there."

"Interesting choice of destination," Loki says. He can still see the seedy gas station out the rearview mirror.

"It was the only place within walking distance," Jane says. "And after all that, I needed something salty to cheer me up."

She pops open the pretzel bag and eats two right off the bat. She offers him a third, but he turns it down. He doesn't like to eat while driving. It breaks his concentration.

"What were you doing out there?" Jane asks.

Loki waits a beat.

"Mal called me," he says. "Wanted to brag about getting a date with you. Of course, when Kurse is involved, I can't be certain what a 'date' means, so I figured I should make sure everything was alright."

Jane nods and looks out the window, staring aimlessly out while Loki reenters town and drives down a block covered in enough lights and holiday decorations to put Clark Griswold to shame. He doesn't know where he's going. Home is in the other direction, and he doubts she lives anywhere near here either. It looks like they're just having a regular Sunday evening drive. It's like being in school, except they have no choice but to be in each other's company until it's over.

Loki clears his throat, though he has nothing to say. Nothing will come to him. That's happening far too often lately, and she is always the cause of it. Jane Foster is for sure going to be the death of him.

He's said it before, and he'll say it again.

Damn her.

"Can I tell you something?"

Loki looks at her fast, forgetting for a moment that he is behind the wheel of a car that he's driving illegally.

"What?"

Out the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees a smile on Jane's face. It could just be a trick of the light, though.

"I was actually terrified back there," she says, and now he knows that _is_ a smile, just not a happy one. "I was only able to say what I did because you showed up. If you hadn't... I don't know what I would've done. So if you were trying of being some kind of hero back there, congratulations. You were."

This time, Loki schools himself not to look away from the road. There is a police cruiser just up ahead. He minds the speed and his turn signals until the car is a distance memory.

"I wasn't trying to be a hero," he says.

A long period of silence follows.

"Can I tell you something else?"

Loki almost wishes she wouldn't.

"Back when we were kids," Jane says, "before you started bullying me… I had a huge crush on you."

Loki grips the steering wheel, his nails leaving marks in two thousand dollar leather that will never fade. He swallows back something large, hard, and painful. He wants to slow down and speed up, throw her out and kiss her senseless all at once.

…he can't even say it anymore.

"Can I tell _you_ something?" he asks.

He waits for a response that she doesn't give, except to edge closer in her seat. Loose wisps of hair appear in his peripheral vision.

"I am driving this car without a license, and you will likely be arrested alongside me if we are caught."

He stops to let that sink in, and smirks when she backs slowly out of view, and he hears the click of her buckling her seatbelt.

"You're a very good driver," she says, eyeing him suspiciously. "Why do I get the feeling you've done this before?"]

Loki chuckles.

"One secret at a time, Jane," he answers. "I'll tell you one more, and one more only."

He slows to a stop in between a Chinese restaurant and a pet store. The lights of the perpetually open restaurant are nothing compared to the elaborate eyesore of a Christmas display the pet store boasts. Whoever thought a lifelike dog head with a Santa hat on was a good marketing idea needed to be drawn and quartered, then fired.

He undoes his belt and maneuvers himself around to fully face her. She hasn't freed herself from the seat, though she grips it tightly. Loki's fingers itch to touch the soft plains of skin on her face and neck, but he settles for a light brush of her cheek. Her eyes flutter shut for just a moment.

"Jane," he says. "I have had… _feelings_ for you for some time."

He stops before his throat can close. That alone nearly killed him to say aloud, but that doesn't make it less true. It's a truth he is revealing to himself just as much as he is to her. There is more still to tell, but for now, they'll both have to settle for that.

"Also, I want to apologize."

Jane blinks her eyes. The echo of each confession rings in his ears, louder each time instead of softer. After a few seconds, she tilts her head.

"Apologize for what?"

Loki furrows his brow.

"I just… I apologize."

"For what?"

"You _know_ for what!"

He dials it back. Shouting was not a good idea, not when he was still on delicate ground and she was steadfastly refusing to get the point. Was she being _deliberately_ obtuse?

And then, just to twist the knife in a little further, she laughs.

Jane Foster _laughs_ at him!

While Loki gapes at her like a fool, Jane's eyes start to tear and she bangs her fists on the dashboard, no doubt leaving behind more dents that will never come out.

"O-okay," Jane says, gulping down air before she gives herself a heart attack. "I guess that's a good start. We can work on it."

He doesn't like the sound of that, but it's hard to contest her when she's happier and more alive than he's seen her in weeks. It's all but impossible.

Loki turns the engine back on and pulls out of his parking space. Some hoboes a few doors down have taken out an old-fashioned radio that alternates between Jingle Bell Rock and ear-splitting feedback. Loki drives a little faster than needed to get away, turning down a familiar road to a line of streets he's known his whole life.

"Where are we going?" asks Jane.

"It's Christmas," says Loki. "And you deserve one full of joy, happiness, and love. Barring that, my family's chef makes a delicious beef stroganoff."

Jane giggles and pushes back her seat, as the red and gold lights of the town's twenty foot Christmas tree flood over them.

* * *

Two firm knocks are all Thor allows before he opens the door to Loki's room. Loki's never minded him barging in, not enough to stop him anyway, so he sees no harm in it.

"Brother!" he calls out. "It's time for dinner. Mother wants you and your friend downstairs in-"

Thor steps inside, and immediately wishes he hadn't. Loki is on his bed, his arms around Jane Foster's petite body and his tongue in her mouth. Jane opens one eye and lets out a squeak, causing Loki to growl as he pulls away. Thor sputters, wanting to apologize for the interruption, but not quite finding the words.

While Jane Foster covers her flushed face (and maybe a laugh if the shaking of her shoulders means anything), Loki steps off the bed, stretching long, spidery legs down to the bottom of the tall bed. He snatches up something off the mantle, and walks with a confident strut Thor hasn't seen from him in months.

"Brother, do you mind?"

Loki grins evilly, and he throws Thor's car keys into his hands and slams the door in his face.

THE END

* * *

**A/N: Thank you to everyone who read!**


End file.
